Runemistress
by Indecisive Bob
Summary: Petunia Dursley is a spiteful and jealous woman, no doubt about it. It all started in her childhood with her jealousy of her little sister, Lily. So what would happen if Lily was more proactive in trying to salvage her relationship with Petunia? What if Petunia was willing to let go of her jealousy? -Warning! A/U!- Rated T for potential language and violent situations
1. Chapter 1

**A/N** So this is an idea that's been floating around in my head for the past year or so, but I've never actually gotten around to doing anything with it till now. This is my first foray into actually writing fanfic, so a bit of constructive criticism would be helpful!

Be warned, this is definitely going to be A/U, so don't come crying to me later on about canon being messed with. Don't like, don't read!

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><p>Petunia Evans was conflicted. There on her desk was a rather large brown paper package from her little sister who was currently off gallivanting about in her precious <em>magic<em> school. Petunia couldn't figure out what to do with the package. Burn it? Toss it in the closet and forget it ever existed? Open it?

On one hand, it was from her perfect, pretty, talented, _magical_ little sister. Lily was everything that Petunia wasn't. Ugly, scrawny, grouchy, untalented Petunia Evans. There was so much jealousy-fueled anger that always simmered right under the surface in Petunia, and just the sight of that package brought that simmer all the way up to a raging boil. It reminded Petunia of that pesky sense of inferiority that she'd been trying to ignore and forget. Why would she want to open that package if it was from the very individual that all of Petunia's jealousy and anger stemmed from?

On the other hand, it was from her little sister. Despite all of the jealousy Petunia felt for her, Petunia truly did love Lily. She was family, her own flesh and blood, her little sister! Sometimes, Petunia longed for the simpler times when she and Lily were younger, back when they actually got along with each other. The thought of opening that package from her little sister brought a pinprick of hope that maybe, just maybe, they could reconcile and actually _be_ sisters again.

After another moment of indecision, Petunia chose to at least see what her sister had sent her. Unwrapping the package, she found a couple books, another box labeled _A Beginner's Potions Kit_, and a letter from Lily. Opening the letter, she read:

_ Hi Tuney! I hope you're doing well there at home. I know that you told me that you don't want anything to do with magic and my… freakishness. But please, don't shut me out! You're my big sister and I love you! I know that I'll be gone for most of the year and I can't make things better between us face to face, but… I want to at least try!_

_ I asked my professors if any magic can be done by umm… normal people. Their answer was no. But don't worry! There are people in the magical world called "Squibs" who are born to magical parents, but can't do any magic. I learned that squibs can't cast spells, but they can still make some potions and do a bit of runework! I figured that since I've got magic and you're my sister, you've got to at least have some magic! I bet you can make potions and use runes!_

_ Please! At least try to make a beginner's potion! It's just like following a recipe while cooking, and an easy potion won't take more than an hour! _

_ Please, Tuney! I don't want to come home for Christmas and not be able to talk to my big sister! Maybe if this works out for you, we'll have something in common!_

_ I know you don't have an owl or anything, so you don't have to worry about sending a letter back. But I'll see you on Christmas break, and I really hope that we can be real sisters again! _

_ Love, Lily_

Petunia was conflicted again. She didn't want Lily's pity, and the letter only reinforced the fact that Lily yet again had something that Petunia didn't. But it also gave her a bit of hope. Maybe, just maybe, she could do something different, something to make her parents praise her, something special. So Petunia picked up Magical Drafts and Potions and started reading about the Boil Cure potion.

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><p>Success! Sweet success! After reading up on the Boil Cure potion, Petunia decided to listen to Lily, and at least try to make the potion. Using an old pot and the camping stove found in the garage, Petunia carefully followed the instructions spelled out in the book. After almost an hour, Petunia took the pot off the stove and was the proud owner of a fine red paste that could allegedly cure any boil-like affliction that one may have. At this point, Petunia was tentatively hopeful. Yes, the potion had turned out to look like it was supposed to. But would it work?<p>

Taking her pot of boil cure with her, Petunia walked to her bathroom and looked in the mirror. Petunia was thirteen at the moment, and had just entered the dreaded "acne stage" of teenage life. And there, right on her nose, was a bright red pimple. So with trembling hands, she dabbed a bit of her Boil Cure on her nose, right on the pimple. Then she waited. For several seconds, nothing happened, and Petunia felt her hope start slipping away. Then, she felt the aching pressure on her nose ease up a bit. Did she imagine it? No! There again! Faster now! Before her wide eyes, Petunia watched her reflection as her pimple slowly vanished as if it were magic. _"Actually,"_ Petunia thought with a widening smile, _"It really is magic, isn't it?"_

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><p><strong>AN** Though it's rather short, I hope you enjoyed this little tidbit! And if you're worried about the fact that Petunia hasn't done anything with runes yet when the title of the story is "Runemistress," chillax. I'll get to it. This is, after all, only the first chapter.

Review please! I won't know if you like or don't like my story if you don't!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N** So, another chapter! I do have to admit to you readers that I don't have much planned for this story. I know, I know, it's a pretty bad idea, but I spent a year trying to plan for this story off and on, and it just never seemed to get done. So flying by the seat of my pants it is!

Oh yeah. Also, Harry Potter is obviously not mine. This is just my little A/U spin on the story that I'm writing for my own amusement.

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><p>After that fateful September day, Mr. and Mrs. Evans saw a remarkable change in their eldest daughter. Gone was her perpetual frown and standoffish nature, replaced by a small smile of accomplishment and an air of determination. It was astounding and wonderful, and when they asked Petunia about what had changed, she simply smiled and answered, "Magic."<p>

Finally, Petunia had something about her that was extraordinary, praiseworthy, _special_. Now that she had this new opportunity within her grasp, Petunia pursued it with a fervor. She immediately spent a sleepless night pouring through her potions textbook, trying to learn as much as she could about her new craft and quickly came to a conclusion: Potion making is just like following an extremely specific recipe. It was all about precision. In fact, Petunia believed that she, a mere beginner at potions, could manage a passable advanced potion.

Petunia likened potion making to a weird sort of chemistry lab mixed with cooking. It definitely wasn't cooking food, but it certainly wasn't a chemistry lab either. It required the timing and precision of delicate recipes, and it required the knowledge of reactions of substances like in chemistry. Also, there seemed to be two paths to take as a potioneer: an average potion maker, or a potions mistress. If she was to simply follow the directions in the textbook as she would a recipe, the result would be an average potion. However, if she took the time to experiment with the brewing process, there was the possibility of creating improved or even new brews like potions masters and mistresses did. Although, after the first instance where she created an explosion in the backyard due to potion experimentation, Petunia decided to put off modifying recipes until she had more experience.

As September came to a close and October came about, Petunia came out of her potions craze. Within a month, she had brewed and mastered every beginner-level potion in her book. Honestly, she was a bit disappointed with potions. She finally had this magical skill, and hardly any of the potions she had brewed were practical. Honestly, who needs a Hair-Raising Potion or a Swelling Solution? Aside from pranks, which Petunia Evans just does _not_ do, she couldn't really find a reason to brew potions like those two except for the experience. Oddly enough, the most practical potion she had brewed so far was actually the first she ever brewed, the Boil Cure. Slightly diluted, the red paste became a light pink cream that would remove pimples overnight instead of within a minute.

Books and potions ingredients don't buy themselves, so Petunia needed a source of income. Thus, her watered down version of the Boil Cure which she aptly named, Pimple Cure. Petunia was a teenage girl, and she knew just how much she hated to have pimples and how much she would have given pre-potions to get rid of pesky pimples overnight. So why not capitalize on that aspect of the lives of the other girls at school? Business was slow at first, but when girls started figuring out that plain old Petunia Evans' "Natural Acne Remedy" really worked as quickly as she claimed it did, business was good. She didn't make an extraordinary amount of money, but she believed it was enough to buy what she needed whenever she got around to visiting Diagon Alley.

Now with a steady source of income and a good grasp on potions, Petunia wasn't sure what to do. On the one hand, potions were dear to her heart simply because they were the key that opened the door that led out of averageness. On the other hand, Petunia couldn't really see any uses for most potions in her life. It seemed to her like most potions were geared towards dealing with magical problems and thus couldn't be used by her, or produced such outlandish effects that she couldn't possibly dream of using them in her mundane neighborhood. Eventually, logic won out over emotion, and Petunia reluctantly decided to only make potions as she needed them.

Instead, Petunia turned to the other book that her little sister had sent to her almost a month prior. It was a rather thick book titled, _Ancient Runes Made Easy_, that claimed to have the translations for over twenty-one thousand runes and symbols. At first, Petunia didn't really see why Lily bothered to send her the book. Petunia thought ancient runes was just another dead language like Latin and didn't see the magic behind it. As far as she was concerned, ancient runes were common knowledge that any normal person had access to. People could actually get professional degrees in Runology! But as Petunia read on, she realized that there was a difference between plain old runes and _runes_. The runes that the rest of the world knew of were just parts of dead European languages with nothing inherently special about them. But _magical_ runes, those were another thing entirely.

In ancient days before the times of wands and other magical foci, magicals used runes as a way to direct their magic. Magic is inherently wild and hard to control, so magicals pushed their magic into runes in order to bring order and structure to their power. Runes were kind of like primitive computer programs or engines powered by magic; they were desired effects written out in physical form, just waiting for the power needed to carry out said effects. String enough runes together in a chain or array in just the right manner, put in the right amount of magic, and there's a magical machine. In goes the raw magic on one side, out it comes refined and with purpose from the other side. In this manner magicals could manipulate the elements, shield from harm, banish the monsters in the dark, and even tamper with space and time.

But, as magical foci became more refined and popular, the art of runecraft was slowly pushed to the side in favor of the easier, safer, newer, and more convenient alternative. Why carry around multiple runestones for several different spells when one can carry just one staff or wand and cast hundreds of spells? Eventually, wands took over as the only way to cast spells, and runes were slowly forgotten to be more than anything else than useful tools in enchanting and warding.

Petunia read this history of magical runes and was hooked. Brewing potions is great and all, but it's still basically glorified cooking. But runes? If she could pull it off, Petunia would be able to cast spells! _Spells_! Something visible and awesome that she would be able to use to amaze her family! This is what she was looking for! Forget potions!

Then Petunia hit a roadblock. She memorized the basic runes and their meanings, practiced drawing them out just right, and set up a safe area in the backyard where she could practice safely. And nothing. She could draw the runes correctly, perfectly even! But how could she push magic into them? Petunia was confident that she had at least a little bit of magic, she _had _too! But how to bring it out? This problem stumped her, and Petunia sulked and brooded for nearly half a month till she found a possible solution: blood.

Petunia had been sulking in her room, as she had been for the past few weeks, and had decided to at least review what potion knowledge she had so she wouldn't forget her hard-earned knowledge. Then there it was! Right at the end of the very beginner's section of the book: the twelve uses of dragon's' blood. It was noted that as magical creatures, dragons had magically potent blood that had a multitude of uses. Quickly flipping through the potions book, Petunia found that the trend of magical creatures having magical blood held true: dragon's blood, magical salamander blood, re'em blood, unicorn blood; they all held rather powerful magical properties.

Now, Petunia didn't actually have any kind of magical creature blood in her beginner's potions kit. After all, magical creatures' blood tended to be quite expensive. So Petunia did the next best (or worst, if you think about it) thing. She used her own blood. She reasoned that she's got to have at least a little bit of magic flowing in her blood, so it'd be better than none, right?

And so, as October came to a close, Petunia Evans sat in her backyard and pricked her thumb with a needle and squeezed several drops of her blood into a small dish of ink she had prepared. Petunia mixed her blood and ink, took a small paintbrush, and carefully drew out the Elder Futhark rune, Sowilo onto a small piece of paper with her new ink. Taking a deep breath, she squeezed a bit more blood out of her thumb and let it gather a bit, then pressed it firmly to her new rune. At first, nothing happened. Then Petunia yelped and yanked her hand away from the rune as the paper went up in flames and smoke. For a while, Petunia just stared at the charred remains of the paper. Slowly, Petunia started to laugh. It was a laugh of relief, joy, hope, and freedom. This was the final straw, the last piece of evidence that Petunia needed to know that she really was unique, more than what everyone else saw, _special_.

As she sat there in her backyard and quietly laughed out her relief, Petunia idly thought about having to use her blood to activate the runes. It would get awfully tiring and potentially dangerous if she had to sacrifice blood every time she wanted to do magic. Perhaps she should look up meditation in order to hopefully find and harness her inner energy? Petunia finished laughing, took a deep breath, and decided that yes, she would look into meditation. But not today. Today, she would relax and bask in sweet, sweet success.

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><p><strong>AN** Hmm... I kind of felt like this chapter was lacking somehow. Lack of conversation, maybe? I don't know. Tell me if anything strikes you as weird please.


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